


We All Fall Down

by DastardlySonya



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel-centric, Death, Demon Dean Winchester, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DastardlySonya/pseuds/DastardlySonya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel finds Dean Winchester in the bunker, but he isn't the same man Cas remembers.  Set post- season 9.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We All Fall Down

We All Fall Down  
Dean stands with his back to Cas. But somehow, it’s not quite Dean. The first blade is held tight in his hand, all the muscles in his remarkably human body held rigid.   
That remarkably human body seems distinctly less human than Cas remembers.   
Cas opens his mouth to call out to Dean, but his attention is pulled away to the dark heap at Dean’s feet before he can speak. It shudders once, and falls still. Too still.  
The greeting dies in Castiel’s throat as the reality of what is happening sinks in. “Dean,” he says slowly, quietly, “what have you done?”  
Dean’s shoulders heave with exertion, but it is the only movement he makes, giving no sign that he has even heard Cas speak to him. Then he speaks. “Crowley,” he says deliberately, “does not own me. He never did.”  
Cas recognizes the body on the floor now as Crowley’s vessel. He feels ice spread through his veins, an interesting sensation he has not yet experience while on earth. It is such a human feeling he has when he hears Dean’s growl of a voice. His old friend hadn’t shouted, hadn’t even raised his voice, but the words somehow have the impact of a sudden clap of thunder.  
Then Dean turns, and the icy tingle still steadily seeping through Cas freezes solid.   
Dean looks at him through black eyes, sneer on his lips. “I see your true face,” he says quietly.  
Cas finds it within himself to reply. “And I see yours.”  
Dean sidesteps, circling to the side and removing the length of the table from between them. He leaves the lump that used to be the King of Hell lying on the floor without a second thought.  
“Crowley’s dead, Cas,” Dean says, a sick kind of excitement thrumming through his voice. “We don’t have to worry about him. Ever again.”  
The ice holding Cas still thaws slightly, only to reform into a solid rock in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t be feeling this. He is an angel, not a human. But then again, that has never mattered when it comes to Dean Winchester.  
“Dean,” Cas says as calmly as he can manage. He puts his hands out in front of his body, shielding himself pathetically as Dean advances. “Put down the blade.”  
Dean is smiling now, black eyes crinkling at the corners. “Why?” he asks, and finally the ice holding Cas still melts away because he no longer has to worry that he will be forced to hurt his friend. His friend is already gone. Cas is alone.  
“The blade has changed you- it still is!” Cas says urgently, even though there is no point. The Dean he knows is not here now, there is no man here to appeal to with reason. Cas doesn’t know if there ever will be again. “Let it go,” he continues, “and let me help you.”  
What he doesn’t say is that he can’t. His grace is almost gone, burning up as they speak, fighting to keep him bound to his vessel.   
Dean’s face contorts at the angel’s words, and any shred of ridiculous, far-fetched hope that Dean will listen to him vanishes. The righteous man is no more.   
“What do you men, help me?” Dean snarls. “Why would I want help? Especially from you?”  
The remark stings fiercely, but Cas presses on. It is not his Dean speaking. The real Dean would never say something like that.  
Dean is growing angrier, almost feral. Cas has never seen him like this, with more emotion flowing through him than he thought possible for a human body to handle. He has to remind himself that the thing he’s looking at barely is human. With a deep breath, Cas steels himself and stops retreating.  
Dean is facing him down, barely a step away. “You always say you want to help, don’t you, Cas?” he sneers. “Look how that’s turned out for us in the past.” He counts on his fingers as he names each of Cas’ more significant blunders. “Lucifer breaks free of the cage- great job stepping up to the plate with that one. Sam comes back form hell without his soul. You play God for a week, try and commit genocide, and let leviathans loose from purgatory. The angels fall. And there are more, oh there are more.” He laughs humorlessly, and lets his hands drop. “I’m running out of fingers to count on, buddy.”  
Cas’ forehead wrinkles with the effort it takes not to take the bait and argue. The last thing he wants is to give Dean an excuse to make good use of the blade in his hand. So instead he says calmly, “You know I never would have done any of those things if I knew what they would cause. I always thought I was doing the right”-  
Dean laughs, throwing his head back as he cackles. “That’s the thing,” he says, “that’s exactly the problem. Whatever you want suddenly, magically, becomes the right thing.”  
“I’m not saying I don’t have my flaws,” Cas counters, growing more aware of the blade in Dean’s hand- the blade that could easily spell the end of him. “I know I’ve made mistakes, and they haunt me. But know that everything I’ve done, everything I’ve tried to accomplish…” he pauses, searching Dean’s face for any sign of his old friend, “It was all for you.”  
Dean’s eyebrows rise as if he is rolling his eyes, but they are still solid black and Cas can’t be sure. “Yeah, you always say that,” he muses. “But I’ve got to wonder, is it worth it? To let you go on killing all these people and angels in my name? In heaven’s name?”  
“Dean”- Cas starts, but the demon speaks over him as if he hasn’t even heard him speak.  
“Maybe,” Dean says, “you’re just another monster. Another problem I’ve got to deal with- some creature to get rid of. I mean, you’ve killed more than Sammy and I combined. More than twenty vamps.”  
Cas vows this will be his last effort. If nothing else, maybe his death will awaken something in this monster Dean has become, give him a fighting chance. He is willing to try.   
“I have killed,” Cas admits, “And I have caused too much pain. But never have I ever done it for sport, or in anger. I have been misguided and naïve, but it was all in an attempt to do good.”  
Dean shakes his head. “That right there is the problem. You can’t even admit it- you’re delusional.” He leans in closer as he continues. “You can’t even see it. You’re evil Cas. You’re the monster. And that’s what I’m around to get rid of.”  
“Then kill me, Dean,” Cas invites, dropping his hands to his sides. “If that’s what you want, if that’s what it takes, kill me.”  
Dean’s upper lips curls, and he raises the blade. Cas stands before him, face devoid of emotion. His only remaining hope is that his death, this final death, will be worth something.  
Dean pauses, blade inches from Cas’s throat. The angel can feel the evil radiating off it in waves.  
“Go on,” he urges, “do it. If that’s what you want so badly, do it.”  
Dean let’s loose a growl of frustration and pulls the blade away, clenching it tightly beside his leg as he turns and paces away. “Dammit Cas, it’s not what I want!” he shouts, spinning on his heel so he faces Cas again.  
“Why not?” Cas demands in return, his tone matching Dean’s. “I’m a monster! Killing things like me is what you do!”  
“But you’re Cas,” Dean yells, waving an arm wildly to punctuate his words. For a moment his eyes flicker, and Cas gets a glimpse of the green eyes that have grown so friendly and familiar to him over the years.   
“We’re family,” Dean declares, “And family don’t kill family.”  
Cas smiles. “No,” he says, voice quieting. “No they don’t.”  
The door behind Cas slams and the moment shatters. Sam stands still in the doorway, a bag of groceries in one hand.  
“Dean?” he says carefully. “Cas? What’s going on?”  
In the half-second Cas’ eyes flick to Sam, Dean’s eyes return to black. His lips curl back in a snarl as he closes in on Cas.  
“Sam’s my family,” he growls. “Not you. And you brought him back without a soul.”  
“I didn’t know,” Cas says, not to defend himself so much as to speak the truth.  
“You almost got my little brother killed!” Dean shouts, lifting the blade. “I’ve been protecting him my whole life and you almost kill him!"  
Sam says something, but neither angel nor demon acknowledges him.  
“It was my fault,” Cas shouts back. “I was naïve, and stupid, and it was my fault!” He throws his arms out to the sides in invitation to the blade. “So kill me, Dean Winchester! Take my life!”  
Dean lets out an animal roar and lunges, blade held out. Sam shouts from the background, but to no avail.  
Castiel has mere seconds to feel afraid. The human he loved bears down on him and buries the First Blade hilt deep in his chest. Cas lurches as Dean pulls it free, stabs him again. What is left of Cas’s grace floods up within him and explodes free, drawing a wretched scream from somewhere deep inside him.   
And then the angel feels no more.  
Sam stares in horror as the empty vessel falls to the ground, his brother standing above it breathing hard. “Dean,” he says when he can finally speak, “What did you do?”  
Dean is perfectly still for a moment, but then slowly he raises his head and meets his brother’s gaze.  
“Dean?” Sam asks hesitantly.  
What is left of Dean Winchester screams. Screams because of what he has done, what he has become. He screams until he can scream no more, and then his soul explodes free of his body, blackened and tarnished. Dean is gone, vanished into that rush of black smoke.  
Sam still stands in the doorway with a grocery bag full of crackers and pie, and wonders what to do next.


End file.
